


Original Sin (a.k.a. 'A Startling, Unexpected Turn of Events')

by RZZMG



Series: Hermione x Draco stories [46]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:28:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 20,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23879938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RZZMG/pseuds/RZZMG
Summary: M.L.E. Probation Officer Hermione Granger is sent a mysterious note to come to Malfoy Manor immediately to prevent her probationary charge, Draco Malfoy, from breaking the terms of his post-war Wizengamot sentence. The note claims Draco is an unregistered Animagus, and that he's trapped himself in his animal form, unable to reverse the spell. Who would send her such a note, and why?A startling, unexpected turn of events uncovers a conspiracy to commit murder, where everyone's a suspect, and forces a confrontation of feelings between two people who have discovered that the sins of the past are better left behind.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Series: Hermione x Draco stories [46]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/332626
Comments: 67
Kudos: 236





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my 2013 HP Porn in the Sun Fest piece (https://hp-porninthesun.livejournal.com). 
> 
> This was the prompt I worked from: _HET #13 - As part of her Magical Creatures job, Hermione's investigating rumours of unregistered Animagi. She ends up at Malfoy Manor following an anonymous tip about Draco. Guess what she discovers there? And guess what she reveals about herself in the process? No ferrets, please, but otherwise… have fun!_
> 
> Warnings: Explicit Het sex (surprise!), a bit of profanity regarding the naming of sexy parts (nudge, nudge, wink, wink), snakes (why'd it have to be snakes?!), characters a bit OOC (because they're all grown-up now and usually people aren't the same idiots they were when they were kids), a murder conspiracy plot and use of Unforgivable Curses (the plot thickens!), and did I mention snakes? LOTS AND LOTS OF THEM.
> 
> I wanted to throw in an animal conservation message into this fic, so... here you go. Doing my part for those under-appreciated reptiles. 
> 
> Thank you on my knees to my beta editor and the 'idea lady', "ladysashi"!   
> Thank you to the Mods for continuing this wonderful fest tradition!

* * *

.

**_"There on the branch of a tree was a snake,_ **

**_glowing the eyes of evil unto me..."_ **

**_\- "Snake" by Felix Beardy_ **

The spiky, white snake was curled up on the branch of Narcissa Malfoy's bonsai citrus tree, its scales raised to indicate alarm. It was crouched into a tight, advantageous striking position, flicking its tongue in nervousness, scenting the air.

"You should be worried," she scolded the snake. "Breaking magical probation this way is a set-back for you, Draco Malfoy. If anyone else had found you like this it could have landed you before a Wizengamot magistrate." She shook her head in disapproval at him. "It's just a good thing someone sent _me_ the note this morning to come here and investigate. Anyone else wouldn't have been quite so lenient and understanding."

She put her hands on her hips, preparing to launch into another round of admonishing Draco about using magic when he'd been explicitly prohibited to do so by the terms of his post-war sentencing, but her sudden movement had the serpent in front of her hissing in warning.

"Don't you smart-mouth me, Malfoy! I'm still your probation officer, and I can make your life hell for the next two weeks, if you don't stop this nonsense immediately!"

The thing had the audacity to hiss at her again, making a strange growling noise at the same time.

Merlin and Morgana, she hated snakes! After the incident at Godric's Hollow with Nagini, she'd developed an intense dislike of them. They were, in a phrase, frightfully cunning and could not be trusted.

"For Circe's sake, I won't hurt you, Draco, you know that!" she rebuked the man-turned-serpent. "Just please come out, so we can determine a way to change you back."

The black forked tongue of the reptile zipped several more times out of its mouth to taste the heat and her intentions, and the animal's eye slits narrowed even further.

Hermione put her hands on her hips and stared him down. "Really, I don't know how you get yourself into these kinds of messes. Every time I turn around, you're doing something you're not supposed to be doing. You know the rules of your probation. As your assigned officer, it's my job to make sure you stick to them, not to pull you out of the fire every time you decide to play around, you know. What's my Offender Assessment Analysis going to conclude when it comes time for your hearing if you continue this way?"

Malfoy coiled up even tighter in the tree – a clear warning to stay away.

Hermione reached into the holster at her hip and pulled out her Vinewood wand. It sparked against her fingertips, much as it had since the day Draco had presented it to her, post-war, having found it under a table in his Drawing Room. She gave the rod a good shake now, hoping to tame its rebellious tendencies and prolonging her needing to retire it by another day.

Soon, she knew, she'd have to take a trip to Ollivander's rebuilt shoppe in the Alley, but she'd been hesitating on doing so, as it felt as if she would be closing another chapter in her life if she acquired a new wand. She'd just broken things off with Ron two years ago, after giving it a solid go between them for five years. That had been a painful enough separation, but to have to change-up her wand, too... Well, she wasn't sure she was ready for that step just yet.

She pointed her wand at the snake. "Draco Malfoy, you come out of there right now and stop posturing! I don't want to have to use magic on you to force the issue. We're both adults, friends even, and using magic on you to force you would feel like a violation of trust to me. So, don't make me cross that line. Come down."

"Granger, what are you doing here and who are you talking to?"

She froze, recognizing the familiar, droll voice coming from the greenhouse door behind her.

Which meant the snake crouched and ready to strike in front of her wasn't Draco. It was one of his pets from his vast collection.

_Oh, shit._

Merlin, how could she have been so stupid to not have checked first whether the snake was really an Animagus or the real deal? After all, it seemed highly unlikely that someone who'd actually learned such a difficult spell as Animal Transformation on their own wouldn't have figured out how to reverse the change, too, right? Yet, the note she'd received today had insisted that Draco was stuck in snake form after secretly playing around with the Animagus spell and he needed help to change him back. She'd naively taken it for granted that no one would send such a serious memo in jest. The message had even detailed where Hermione would find snake-Draco...

...which meant this had been a trap laid out for her in advance. Someone had wanted her to encounter this snake, and for a purpose she was betting wasn't benign.

A hand suddenly clamped down on her wrist and held her immobile. Behind her, Draco let out a hiss. "Don't move," he warned in her ear, deadly serious. " _Atheris hispida_ is of the viper family and is extremely venomous. Lucy here could pump enough hemotoxin into you to cause haemorrhaging and death."

"Lucy?" she whispered, even as Draco very slowly moved them out of striking range.

When they were far enough away, he grabbed her wand. "May I?" he asked an as after-thought, even as he pointed it at the snake and cast a Petrify spell upon it. He handed her wand back to her and then stepped forward to un-tangle the completely immobilized animal from the limb it was wrapped around.

"How did you escape your cage and get way over here?" he asked the snake, his brow furrowed in thought.

Hermione followed him as he left the greenhouse and headed for a smaller out-building across the yard. As soon as they entered, she knew she was in a specially-built ophidiarium, as the temperature was humid and the air heavy in her lungs. The scent of reptile spoor mixed with fertile loam and dead plant material was present, but faint and not offensive. The place was as neat and clean as a pin. Draco obviously took good care of his pets.

He approached one large enclosure featuring a miniature rainforest diorama. Opening the lid, he carefully placed Lucy on a branch, assuring her security. He hissed again, as if disturbed by the whole matter, and then closed and locked the opening to the small cage. Once the snake was safe once more in her home, he used Hermione's wand to reverse the Petrification spell. Lucy seemed disoriented for the moment, remaining coiled and alert. Her tongue flickered in fast bursts from between the thin breach of her mouth as she scented the changes in her environment.

"It'll take her a few minutes to realise she's back on familiar turf," Draco explained. "We should leave her be. She's been through enough of a shock for the day." He turned and looked around his collection. "In the meantime, let's see if anyone else has been disturbed."

"My wand?" Hermione asked, holding out her hand.

Draco merely shook his head. "Until I know they –and we– are all safe, consider it on loan." He glanced down at her and waggled his eyebrows at her. "Don't worry. I'll give it back. Trust me."

Hermione sighed with resignation. "Fine, just don't break it or use it to do... illegal things."

He tossed her a suggestive grin and gave a deep, sinful chuckle that made her heart do a double back flip and her blood rush to her cheeks.

Bloody hell, it was going to be one of those days, wasn't it?

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...** _

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

**_“If I seem to take part in politics, it is only because politics encircles us today like the coil of a snake from which one cannot get out, no matter how much one tries. I wish therefore to wrestle with the snake.”_ **

**_\- Mahatma Ghandi_ **

**X~~~~~X**

From her peripheral vision, Hermione watched as Draco meticulously checked every cage, and assured all of his collection was present and accounted for. She had to admit, there were some interesting and colourful specimens, some even albinos like Lucy. One snake in particular caught her attention for its lovely bronze sheen.

"That's Frank. He's a _Liophis ornatus_ , or a Saint Lucia racer," Draco informed her, stopping behind her. "His kind lives in the wild exclusively on the island of Saint Lucia in the Caribbean. He's a non-venomous and a gentle species. Thought to be extinct as a result of humans introducing mongooses to control the other snake populations near their villages, but I've managed to find a male –Frank, there– and a female –she's hiding under the foliage, see? – which I intend to breed."

"Gentle, you say?" Hermione asked.

"Mmm. Very much so. Would you like to hold him?"

She shook her head most emphatically, and moved on to a cage diagonally across, to examine a very large aquarium that took up most of the back wall. Half of the cage was soft beach sand, and the other led into a salt water replica of the ocean, the glass magically enchanted to extend further than was physically possible in the mundane world to allow the inhabitants inside some room to move around. A long, thin, grey-coloured snake was actually underwater, swimming after a small school of fish. Clearly, it was looking for dinner.

"You wouldn't want to handle Severus here." Draco grinned at her when she turned to give him a raised eyebrow in questioning. "Yes, he was named for Snape, and for a good reason: _Enhydrina schistosa,_ or the hook-nosed sea snake, is an aggressive species of serpent - often deemed the most cantankerous snake in the world by herpetologists. They're native to the tropical waters of the Indo-Pacific, and also extremely venomous. It pumps out neurotoxins and myotoxins both, so death is pretty much guaranteed if he bites you."

The snake turned at that moment, heading right for the glass as it chased a fish in earnest. Its mouth gaped open, ready to chomp down on its prey...

"Okay, we're done," Hermione stated, spinning on her heel and marching out. She'd seen enough snakes today. Again, Draco followed behind her, but this time, she distinctly heard him give a sinister, little chuckle.

As they walked side-by-side back to the main house, her companion silently handed her back her wand, as promised. She took it without comment and wiped the sweat off her brow with a shaky hand. Today had been much too close a call. That was the second time in her life her death had almost come at the fangs of a venomous snake.

She shuddered as the unwanted memory of Nagini wearing Bathilda Bagshot's skin flashed before her eyes once more. In all her numerous brushes with death, nothing had never terrified her as much as that one incident in Godric's Hollow. Being stalked by humans intending on torturing and murdering you had been expected in that war; it was an awful reality she'd come to accept the moment she'd chosen to stand up against Voldemort. Being hunted by an intelligent, giant serpent that intended to consume you after it killed you, though – there was nothing more horrifying than that, in her opinion.

Needless to say, she'd had an intense dislike of all beasts that lacked limbs after that. Call her coloured by her experiences.

Well, at least as far as snakes were concerned. When it came to getting over the other nightmarish incidents during the war –especially what that had happened here at Draco's ancestral home that mid-April afternoon during the final month- Hermione had been a much more forgiving person.

It was strange how different things had turned out from what she'd expected. What a difference seven years had made! Not just in where she now found herself to be, in terms of a career and personal relationship issues, but also in terms of how she now approached situations.

When she'd been younger and more naive about the way the justice system worked, she might have marched over to the Floo and immediately called M.L.E., demanding a cadre of Aurors come to perform a thorough investigation into what had happened here today at Malfoy Manor. She'd have demanded the guilty party be found immediately, and he or she be held accountable in the highest court in the land, without considering the bigger ramifications of that call. Now, thanks to a seven-year crash course in Ministry politics, she realised there was more than just her life on the line to consider in reporting today's crime.

If word got around that she'd almost been killed at a former Death Eater's residence, the repercussions for Draco and his family, as well as to the others in a similar situation to him, would be devastating. Mob justice was still a very potent and nasty force to reckon with – most especially when it was an election year for the Minister, whose 'gentler' reforms were not popular with those seeking cold revenge on the former followers of Voldemort. If she made that call to M.L.E., public sentiment would turn on Draco as soon as someone as foul as that evil bug, Rita Skeeter, got their crooked quills into the story, for it would be an easy thing to assign blame to him for Hermione's snake attack.

No, she couldn't risk acting rashly in this case. She'd have to approach this situation with prudence if she was to keep Draco and his family from suffering the consequences of someone else's carefully-planned scheme to set them all up to fall.

Draco...

It was funny how important he'd become to her over the four, short years since she'd taken on his case, and how far they'd both come in their emotional and personal growth within that time. Before she'd reconnected with him post-war, she'd have had him arrested for daring to brush a finger over her wand. Over their years working together to rebuild his life, though, Hermione had learned to relax around Draco as a certain amount of professional and personal trust had been established between them. She'd come to reassess her opinion of the wizard, and she'd discovered that she actually liked the person he'd grown into.

Over the last fifty-one months, she and Draco had been forced to meet once every two weeks to reaffirm the terms of his probation and to check up on his progress. During those sessions, he'd been encouraged (read: required by Ministry edict) to discuss his emotional struggles with her so that they might work out potential solutions together in an attempt to get him off the system and back into wizarding society as soon as possible, so that he might be "a productive member of their population once more" (read: less bigoted, less like to rebel, and most importantly, tax-paying).

Yes, at first, Draco had been a bit difficult and even a little verbally hostile towards her and the entire idea of his "rehabilitation", but that had been expected, and even planned around; Hermione had volunteered to take on his case not only to help him and his family claw their way out of the social abyss they'd been relegated to after the war, but also as a way to personally challenge herself as well. She'd had her own demons to exorcise after the war, and helping Draco had helped her come to terms with them and find closure.

Now, all these years later, she and Draco had developed a comfortable rapport. Their relationship was, in fact, quite affable, and a tad flirtatious on his side.

Okay, maybe more than a 'tad'.

Of course, Hermione strictly maintained a wholly professional dialogue between them, at least on her end. She'd never once flirted back with Draco, despite her instinctual desire to do so, and she'd always done her best to keep her voice well-modulated and controlled around him, even in the face of her arousal.

Like now.

Merlin, he looked good! Dressed in business casual, in a pair of well-fitted, light grey summer trousers that he'd partnered with a crisp, white dress shirt, he looked comfortable, powerful, and sexy. It was hard not to keep staring at his bum as he took the lead once they entered the house. He had a great backside that she itched to trace with her hands. It wasn't flat and uninteresting, like most men she knew, but shapely and tight. The cut of his clothing accentuated it and his tapered waist, his long legs, and his sleek build.

_Not very professional, Hermione_ , she reminded herself, biting the edge of her lip and pulling her attention away before she gave into temptation and let her inquisitive fingers roam as they wanted.

The long hallway that connected this section of the Manor to all of the rooms on this same level was made of one long, continuous sheet of Italian marble. Laid over it was the longest carpet runner in history – some romantic French design made with pastel threads and featuring roses. Against the backdrop of the white marble with its grey and rose-coloured ribbons, it looked quite stunning, she had to admit. Like something out of the Palace of Versailles.

_Much better,_ she congratulated herself as they reached a set of double-doors and paused. _Think about the decor. Safe topic, right there._

Draco waved a hand over the gold door handles, and they opened by magic. "It's a spell on the room itself, laid down hundreds of years ago by some ancestor," he told her to ward off her criticism. "I didn't technically use my magic to open it." He indicated that she should enter before him. "After you."

She went in and took a seat on one of the three Victorian reading sofas in the room, noting the significant amount of natural light that the room's clever architecture allowed. Tall windows and skylights dotted the walls and ceilings, which were thirty-feet high if they were an inch. Every wall that wasn't a window was covered with books, lined up in neat order with gold plates labelling each section – 'Potions', 'Divination, Astronomy, Astrology', 'Runes and Ancient Languages', 'Magical Creatures', 'World History and Religion', 'Charms and Transfiguration', etc. She noted there didn't seem to be a plate for 'Dark Magic'.

Draco moved past her to the drink caddy, lifting a half-filled decanter that contained a dark amber liquid –probably Firewhisky– and shook it at her, gauging her interest.

"No, thank you," she declined.

True, she probably needed it to help calm her nerves after this morning's close call, but it wouldn't be at all professional to imbibe during a work day.

Undeterred by her rejection of his hospitality, Draco poured himself about two finger's worth of the alcohol in a glass and threw it back in one go. Then, having gotten that out of his system, he poured himself a second glass and nursed it as he turned his attention back to her.

Instead of directly launching into a round of questions, as she'd expected, her host merely stared at her through a half-lidded, contemplative gaze in silence as he sipped his drink.

This was familiar territory. Sometimes, during their therapy sessions, he would just stop talking and look at her as he was now, as if he were turning over some important decision regarding him, her, and _them_ in that amazing brain of his. She wondered if, in those brief moments, he was also imagining how her kiss might taste, or how compliant she'd be in his arms, or even what she'd look like without clothes. It was a silly idea, of course, but the staring game he played with her never failed to ignite Hermione's curiosity.

As she sat across from him now, he was wearing that same unfathomable expression upon his face, and she once again felt the edgy tension of sexual anticipation coil in her belly.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...** _

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

* * *

Was Draco thinking about her as Hermione often thought of him in secret? Did he want to cross every line, abandon all sanity, and risk everything for a taste of the forbidden, just as a part of her longed to do? If so, she was torn between encouraging that, and in dissuading him.

Wands and crosses, but she was starting to unravel! She needed to get a tighter grip on her imagination and feelings. At this rate, her fidgeting was going to give her away, and that just wouldn't do.

Attempting for a more 'strictly business' attitude, she sat up straighter, drew her thighs and ankles together, and folded her hands on her lap.

Unfortunately, the effort didn't result in the ideal or intended effect. Rather than putting some distance between them, Draco's attention immediately dropped to her bare knees, and there was no mistaking the flare of interest from him then.

Internally, she cursed her choice of a business skirt with no hose for today's dress. It had been too hot today to wear a pants suit, much less any kind of leggings, as they were currently suffering a heat wave throughout England. While Cooling Charms were a blessing, they faded away after a short while, and had to be constantly recast, and Hermione just didn't have the time or energy to keep doing so, especially as she was usually on-the-go all the time. So, she'd ditched her wizarding robes and had dressed Muggle this morning, thinking it a wiser choice. Now, though, she found herself tugging at the edge of the skirt, trying to give it a bit more length. Of course, it didn't work, and Draco continued to stare down at her from his greater height with blatant sexual interest.

_This is not what you're here for,_ Hermione sharply reminded herself.

To avoid any further awkwardness, she cleared her throat and did what any sane woman would do in this situation: she diverted Draco's attention with 'shop talk'.

"Someone sent me a note this morning – direct to my office in M.L.E. It said you'd discovered how to use the Animagus spell without a wand and had turned yourself into a snake, but that you'd gotten stuck in that form, as you didn't know how to turn back. It begged me to come to the Manor greenhouse to help you before someone else from the Ministry came around and investigated, especially someone from the Improper Use of Magic Office."

Her distraction worked. Draco's brow hitched in surprise as her words hit home, and he turned away, to focus out the library window into the back gardens to contemplate the implication.

"Lucy’s breed is known as an African spiny bush viper,” he explained. “There's no Muggle antidote or antivenin in the world that can save you if she were to pump enough poison into you. Only a single wizard’s potion exists to counter her hemotoxin, but it's very rare to concoct and takes six weeks to brew successfully. It can give you a fifty-fifty chance, but only if administered within twenty-four hours of the bite.” He ran a hand through his short, champagne-coloured hair, pushing his bangs back from his eyes. “So, what you're saying is that someone basically set you up to die, since they intentionally lured you over here under false pretences and put Lucy in your path."

Of course he'd see the pattern and leap the logic. Draco was Slytherin, and he saw plots, secrets, and lies everywhere.

"Seems like it," Hermione agreed. "The snake was precisely where the note said it would be – in the greenhouse and hard to miss the minute you opened the door. The lie was just convincing enough to have me come running. But who would do such a thing?"

She glanced up at him as he turned and stared at her again, biting her lip, wanting to speak the names of some suspects, but worried how it might offend him.

As if reading her mind, Draco firmly shook his head. "It couldn't have been either of my parents," he stated with assurance. "I checked on my snakes this morning after getting up and dressed. Lucy was in her cage at that time. I met my parents immediately afterwards in the Sun Room, and we all took our time eating breakfast, reading the paper, and talking. We didn't leave that room again until ten o'clock when I saw them off to the Floo so they could meet with their probation officers at half-past, as usual. There was no time for them to meddle with my pets, and they wouldn't risk such a stupid move anyway, especially with all three of us up for a relief hearing in just two weeks."

"Who, then?" As soon as she asked the question, another suspect popped into her mind. "Astoria?"

Draco's glance cut her way, and he scowled. "She can't get past the Manor wards, and anyway, she wouldn't dare."

Hermione shrugged. "I admit the entrance issue presents a challenge, but as for motive, well, she definitely has one of those," she gently argued, knowing the situation with Astoria Greengrass was a delicate one for her charge. "She might have finally decided that you'd really meant it when you'd said you were over, and now wants revenge, rather than to convince you to take her back."

Draco had been involved with the youngest Greengrass daughter after his war trial had ended seven years prior. Astoria had been an impressionable, attractive young witch, and Draco had been an angry, embittered young man. He'd taken the girl up on her advances, even knowing she'd come onto him only because she'd been star-struck by his Dark Mark and his good looks. Her father and mother hadn't openly supported the Dark Lord, but they had paid Tom Riddle tribute and had espoused his ideas. Astoria had been a product of their brainwashing, enamoured with dark magic and romanticising the rebellious nature of Voldemort's cause. Needless to say, the relationship between her and Draco hadn't ended well after several on-again, off-again attempts, and it had been one of his greatest regrets.

He'd only been forced to confess such things to Hermione because Astoria had been harassing him for the last several years, hoping to rekindle their relationship, and had more than once jeopardised his probation with her antics. Perhaps this was her long-awaited retribution for him having dumped her on her prissy, anorexic arse.

"Think about it," Hermione pressed. "She's made it clear with the things she's done and said since I took over your case that she hates my interference in your life. She feels I'm keeping you from taking her back, because I've been using my leverage in M.L.E. to enforce the restraining order against her. Her obsession with you might have pushed her over the edge."

Draco's gaze hardened to hot, forged steel. "On the flip side, it could be your ex, the Weasel."

Hermione was taken aback by the accusation. "Ron?" She laughed. "No, he wouldn't-" She paused for a millisecond to consider it and then scoffed. "No, I can't believe he would do something like this. He might have been angry with me for ending things, but he'd never attempt to physically hurt me. Also, as you pointed out earlier, Ron wouldn't be able to get through your Manor's wards without an invite or a Ministry writ granting him access – neither of which he would have without one of us being alerted in advance." She peeked up at him through her lashes. "Besides, why would he try to frame you for such a thing as my injury or death?"

Draco's expression softened and he quickly crossed the room to sit at her side. "You know why. He's a jealous man, always has been, and you've moved past him. You're going places in your career, and what is he? Still Potter's sidekick." He reached out to touch her cheek, stroking over it with a tender touch. "And, then there's us. What if he did this to get even with me for 'stealing' all your attention once you took over my case? Wasn't that his excuse for why he'd felt it necessary to repeatedly look elsewhere for 'comfort' when you were together? What if he'd meant it? What if he really does see me as taking you away from him, rather than you leaving him for being a cheating bastard? He's always hated me. What if your break-up two years ago unhinged him and this is how he gets revenge on both of us? Hurting us, because of the way we feel about each other."

She licked her lips as her mouth ran suddenly dry, and leaned away from him. "Don't. We can't. It's...inappropriate. I'm your probation officer."

His gaze grew heated once more as he followed the movement of her tongue. "For only two more weeks."

Hermione stood up and stepped back. "That is, _if_ we can convince the review board that you're ready for them to release you from your sentence early for strictly adhering to the program guidelines and for good behaviour."

She ran her fingers through her shortened locks in frustration as she crossed the room and took up Draco's abandoned spot before the window, putting some much-needed space between them. Her reflection in the glass looked tired, she noted, and this haircut... Why, oh why, had she allowed Ginny to convince her to cut her hair into some new, chic design and to give it highlights? At the time, it seemed a fun thing to do, but at this moment, that decision was beyond her. Now, she was feeling the absence of her cascade of curls like some female version of a Biblical Samson, her courage and strength somehow lessened by their loss. It was completely daft, but true.

"You always do this. You always hide behind your office to escape your feelings," Draco accused her, drawing her back into the conversation. "I've watched you do it for two years, and it is clear as day that work isn't the only reason you pull away." He emphatically pointed a finger at her. "Get it into your head, Granger: You and Weasley didn't work because he resented your success and he cheated on you to get even with you for it. Not your fault. That's all on him, so stop carrying that guilt around like a bag of bricks and building walls with it. You're shutting me out. Also, no one's home right now. I think it's safe enough here for the moment for you to try a little honesty for once. Merlin's balls, it's not like we're committing a sin or anything by talking about this."

Adamantly, she shook her head. "Fine, maybe I've got some baggage left over from Ron that I need to work through, and I'll try. I will. But as for the second part, it's _not_ safe here. This whole plot with the snake has proved that, if nothing else. Anyone could be hiding in one of the hundreds of rooms you've got in this place, listening to our conversation right now!"

"There are twenty-five rooms, plus the former dungeon-now-wine cellar," he corrected her in a growl. "This isn't Reggia de Caserta, for fuck's sake. Quit exaggerating."

She sighed. "Look, there's too much riding on your freedom for me to allow potential feelings for you to exist, Draco."

It was silent in the room for several long seconds in the face of that proclamation –wimpy though it had sounded– and her heart beat loudly in her ears as she waited for his response.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...** _


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

"Potential feelings? Is that what you've told yourself to get to sleep at night? I thought you were braver than that, Granger."

Focussing on what was in front of her, ever aware of what was behind her she glanced at their reflections in the glass again. "It's not about being braver," she maintained. "It's about being smarter. I'm avoiding accusations of a conflict of interest, and being hauled up in front of an ethics board. I could lose my badge, or worse, be brought up on charges of conduct unbecoming an agent in my position. You call it hiding behind my office, but I have to consider that. If that happened, it could ruin both our lives."

She hadn't heard him stand up, or cross the carpet to her, so when his arms came to either side of her, caging her between, and his body moved in close enough for her to feel its heat against her back, she stiffened in surprise.

Draco capitalised on her momentary shock to make his move. "So, what would you consider an appropriate amount of time after I acquire my freedom to begin pursuing you, then?" he asked, brushing his lips tantalizingly over the shell of her ear. "How long do I have to wait to be with you?"

Her knees nearly buckled at the blatant eroticism of his actions and words. "Draco..." she warned.

He gently nipped her lobe to shut her up. "You need me to put myself out there to prove my sincerity? Typical Gryffindor politicking. I get it. Fine.” He pressed his forehead to the side of her temple and whispered his secrets to her. “Here it is, Granger: for the last four years, ever since you came back into my life, I've been dreaming about doing so many wicked things to you. I'm tired of imagining it. I want to turn those fantasies into reality. I want to learn every inch of your body with my hands and my mouth and my cock. I want you all over me and under me. I want your scent in my nose and your taste in my mouth. I want to fuck you, and make love to you everywhere, in every way possible. I _want_ you, Hermione, and I don't care if it's sinful to say so.”

He dropped his arm to grab a tight hold of her hip, asserting an unspoken claim upon her. Her body trembled against his in response, feeling the power of his wishes to her very core. Her nipples went hard in response and her pussy ran wet with need.

“But this is about more than just fantastic sex," he relentlessly continued. "I want more with you than just that. I want to buy you books without you worrying if it would be considered a bribe. I want you to come to my cello recitals without worrying if it would appear inappropriate to fraternize with me outside of work. I want to take you on dates and on holiday trips around the world. I want to be able to hold your hand in public. I want permission to be able to kiss you wherever and whenever, and to hell with the paparazzi. I want the world to know we're dating – that you're mine in bed and out of it. I want my _chance_ with you, Granger. That's what I really want. No Ministry, no family, and no friend's interference. Just you and I giving it an honest go."

He slid his nose down her throat, following her thrumming pulse, and sighed against her sensitive skin.

"Just tell me: how long do I need to wait to have you like that?"

Panting ever so slightly, she thought about his request. What might be considered proper in such a case as theirs? When would be a good time to start up a relationship like that with a man like him?

_Never,_ the staunch voice of her conservative side spoke up.

Immediately, her reason and her libido both quashed that kind of talk as unreasonable. She wanted him with an equal level of desire as he held for her, and she knew it would be impossible to resist his pull forever. There was a spark between her and Draco that was undeniable, and she wanted to take it all the way with him, too.

Besides, he'd changed so much over the years. He wasn't the same snotty, cruel bully he'd been back at Hogwarts. He'd laboured so hard to regain respectability and to work through his conditioning and personal character deficits after the war, and the man he'd become was a good one, she thought. He deserved her giving him the chance he was asking for. Frankly, he was the only one of her four cases that did merit such faith and trust...

Her other cases.

"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, struck by inspiration. "I think I know who's responsible for today's set-up!"

She whirled around in his arms, excited to share her inspired conclusion... and clipped the bottom of Draco's chin with her forehead with just enough force to turn his head and for her to see stars. "Ow!" they both cried out, and rubbed their individually injured parts.

Talk about ruining the moment!

"Sorry," she mumbled, hoping she wouldn't bruise from the clumsy collision. "You okay?"

Draco stepped back, massaging his chin and snarked, "As soon as I find a healer to realign my jaw, sure. Your head is made of granite, woman."

She _tsk'd_ at his over-exaggeration. He'd always had the flair, even back in school, especially when it came to injuries. "I didn't hit you that hard. And anyway, I think I know-"

"-who's responsible for trying to off you. I heard you the first time." He seemed genuinely curious, his earlier attempt at seduction forgotten for the moment. "So, don't keep me in suspense, Granger. Who is it?"

This was going to be hard to convince him, since the suspects in this case were his former cohorts.

"Right, but let me get it all out before you jump at me and start knocking my pins down," she appealed. Draco looked confused by her use of Muggle slang. "I mean, don't start punching holes in my theory, until I can give you some legitimate facts to back it up."

He rolled his eyes, crossed his arms (never a good sign, as it indicated he was sceptical to suggestion), and indicated for her to go ahead with her pitch.

"Alright, so, let's start off with a list of everyone who has come and go access to your Floo. There's you," she stated, ticking off on her fingertips as she named names, "your parents, me, and then there are your friends: Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, and Gregory Goyle."

He nodded. "Right so far."

"What about Blaise Zabini or Marcus Flint, or the Greengrasses?" she asked.

Draco shook his head. "I'm not friends with Zabini or Flint. Never really was, and after the war, I stopped seeing or talking to them, as you well know. The Greengrasses don't have access at all. Even their Floo-call privileges were revoked after Astoria's harassment wouldn't cease. My father saw to that."

Hermione nodded. That's just what she'd thought. "So, Pansy, Theo, and Greg can come through – my other three assigned cases. Anyone else I should know about?" She gave him a stern look when he hesitated. "Now would not be the time to lie to me or hide things, Draco. If you've brought home a witch or two, I won't judge you for it."

He cleared his throat and looked off to the side, clearly embarrassed. "There have been a few arrangements made for... professional company, yes." A lovely shade of pink highlighted his cheeks. "I may have had to be walled up like a monk for most of my probation, but I certainly wasn't going to live like one for seven years, Granger." He glanced over at her again. "But it would be impossible for those witches to come back without a second invite, which I never gave."

Hearing him admit he'd been with other women hurt, but Hermione shunted aside those feelings to stay on task. There were more important things right now to consider than her bruised ego. Besides, as he'd said, he couldn't be expected to be without companionship for so long. It wasn't practical, and they hadn't (yet) been together in that sense, anyway. And it's not like she had room to throw stones, as she'd been with Ron until two years ago. So, really, she had absolutely no right to begrudge Draco his sexual history. Not even a little bit.

...Even if he had been having wild, torrid sex with complete strangers who were probably model-gorgeous since they were paid escorts.

She felt absolutely ill at the thought.

"Granger?"

Snapping out of her unhealthy reverie, Hermione jumped right back into their prior conversation, setting aside her personal feelings for now. "Right, so if we were to agree that your wards keep everyone out, we'll have to cross off anyone who doesn't have free access in or out of your property. That gets rid of Astoria, Ron, and your... other women," she recapped. "Although, I still think it's premature to completely eliminate them, so let's put that group to the side right now as a secondary list of possibilities. The primary list, however, boils down to a manageable six people, from which I can cross myself off, as clearly, I wouldn't try to murder myself. Er, execute me. No wait – it would technically be considered 'attempting suicide', wouldn't it?" She pondered that for a moment, nonplussed. "What _would_ you call it?"

Draco laughed. "How about self-assassination?"

Hermione gave him a critical eye.

He held his hands up in surrender. "Well, whatever you conclude the legal jargon should be for the situation, you can take me off that list as well. If I wanted you flat on your back, pet, poison wouldn't be the way to go about it." He tossed her a wicked, challenging smirk at that.

She rolled her eyes. "Be serious, will you? So, that leaves your parents –who you insist couldn't have done it due to time constraints today– and your three friends."

Draco lost his amusement in a heartbeat. "I don't like to consider it, but... you make a compelling argument. Someone wanted you in harm's way, and there are only so many people with the ability to get on my property to enact such a plan – and I know from our conversations that all of my friends do have it out for you. They don't like their sentences, and they despise you for forcing them to talk about their personal feelings in the bi-weekly meetings. They feel violated and bullied by their probationary terms, and that isn't a good combination when dealing with a Slytherin," he stated with a sigh.

"Back a snake into a corner and it'll strike every time," Hermione agreed.

Yes, she had definitely felt the resentment Draco referred to from her other three caseloads. She didn’t blame her former schoolmates for their feelings, but they were the architects of their own destinies. Change was necessary in every society for it to grow and become better, and her charges' stubbornness in refusing to recognise that fact –in refusing to abandon their antiquated and unscientific ideals of pure-blood supremacy– would keep them where they were for a long time to come in this new world. She pitied them, because their road would not be an easy one.

It would be even harder for the one who'd attempted to murder her today. Azkaban might not have Dementors anymore, but the cells had all been rebuilt and reinforced so prisoners couldn't talk to each other. The silence had already driven some of the more weak-minded Death Eaters and Snatchers insane over the years. Hermione didn't envy the person who was convicted of the crime of trying to kill her, for there would be no mercy from the Wizengamot.

"Of the three, who do you think might be most likely responsible?" she asked.

He seemed to consider it. "Pansy's malicious enough, and Theo's clever with a nasty streak, but you can cross Greg off the list. Love the man, but he isn't smart enough to colour-coordinate his socks without his mum's help, much less engineer an attempt on your life."

She agreed. "I think Pansy the best suspect of the lot. She's always held a special place in her heart for verbally tormenting me, and shows a distinct lack of regard for my status as her probation officer. Theodore is little better, though. Less mouthy, but not the definition of 'friendly' either. I suspect he and Pansy discuss our sessions behind my back by some of the comments he's made during our sessions, so they might be in it together. And, let's not strike Gregory from the list until we can account for his whereabouts today. He's often hostile towards me in a menacing, glowering sort of manner, and is tight lipped in general. It's always the quiet ones you have to be wary of, they say."

"So, what's your plan for determining which one or ones it may be?" Draco asked. "If it was any of them, they're going to lie – something they're all equally good at doing. If they were really as clever as you suspect, they'd have an alibi already established, too."

Hermione had already considered how to trap the killer. In truth, it was an old ruse used by fictional detectives on television, but since she was dealing with pure-blood wizards, it was a good bet they'd never been exposed to such Muggle entertainment. She was hoping it would trip up the killer into giving him or herself away.

"I have an idea," she told him, pointing a finger towards the sky, striking the ‘inspired’ pose.

Draco's lips twisted with a good-humoured smirk. "Of course you do."

"Here’s the thing: you always pick the exact right lure to hook the fish you want to catch," she explained, using a term her father –who enjoyed fly fishing as a hobby– liked to remind her whenever they went out together on a weekend family excursion to ‘get back to nature’. "So, first, we’ll inform Harry of what happened here today. Bringing him in and getting his buy-in will lead credence to the plan. Second, we'll pretend to the world that _you_ were struck by the snake, not me. We’ll make a fake production of dragging you to St. Mungo's as if you were seriously injured. Harry can force the Healers on staff to comply with the lie, for the investigation's sake. We'll then have him and the Healers hold a press conference an hour or so after we bring you into the hospital, telling the world the tale of your amazing heroism – how you saved me from certain death by stepping in front of a venomous serpent as it lunged at me, taking the hit in my place. He’ll state that we don't know which one of your vast collection of snakes bit you, however, for we can't find the culprit, and I couldn’t identify it before it slithered away to hide. We'll say you're gravely ill, barely clinging to life, and leave the prognosis at 'very grim'."

“And you think the one who set you up will come forward and, what, admit their guilt to Potter out of a sense of responsibility?” he asked with clear incredulity.

Hermione shook her head. “They wouldn’t dare or face being arrested for attempted murder. Instead, if it's one of your friends or Astoria, they’ll most likely sneak into your hospital room to try to administer the wizard’s antidote to you. If it's someone else, they might come to gloat that you were the accidental victim of their trap; it's a common mistake petty criminals make. You'd be surprised how many foolish people there are out there who just can't resist letting their victims know they got one over on them. The nefarious always have astounding egos. In any case, if the perpetrator comes to your room for either reason, we’ll be waiting for them.”

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “Assuming they made any of the antidote potion or want to stick it to me in the end.”

“Whoever did this wasn't a fool. They knew your lone house-elf was off for the day, per the newly enacted law. They knew your parents would be out of the house visiting their probation officers. They knew you were busy with your weekly cello lessons, so you couldn’t hear the Floo activate to let either of us in or out. They were clever and careful enough to have considered all of those issues, so it follows they would have taken precautions against the worst-case-scenario, too. After all, what would have happened if, by some freak accident, the snake had bitten _them_ while they'd been laying the trap for me?”

He nodded. “Makes sense. It’s a good thing I ended my lessons early today and decided to go for a stroll in the gardens and heard your voice coming from the greenhouse.” He frowned. “So, they had to have been planning this escapade for six weeks at least, to give time for them to brew the antidote potion.”

“Yes, I think so.”

Draco was silent as he mulled over her plan. Hermione anxiously awaited his decision, knowing it all hinged upon him going along with it. If he agreed, he'd potentially be setting one of his friends or his ex up to be arrested. He'd be choosing Hermione over his old life. In a way, she felt guilty for having to force such a burden on him, but at the same time, the culprit had severed their friendship with Draco the moment they enacted their plan, as they'd used Draco's home for the murder set-up, uncaring of the repercussions upon him in the aftermath, thus choosing revenge over friendship.

Her charge raised his head and met her gaze. In his rock-hard stare, she saw his resolve. He'd made his choice.

"Call Potter."

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...** _


	5. Chapter 5

* * *

**X~~~~~X**

**_"If you have to kill a snake, kill it once and for all.”_ **

**_\- Japanese Proverb_ **

The trap had been magnificently prepared, with Harry agreeing to Hermione's plot the moment she'd laid everything out for him.

Once everyone had been contacted and informed of their duties, and the correct procedures were put into place to assure the apprehension scheme would be done by the books (and therefore considered wholly legal), the players had taken their places. At the stipulated time, Harry gave the signal, and then the subterfuge began.

Hermione had to give it up to her best friend and the staff at St. Mungo's – they were utterly convincing in the pretence of a real life-threatening emergency, whirling Draco away into a private room in a flurry of hasty, alarmed calls, and every once in a while, peeking their heads out the door to call for different treatment remedies to be brought to them by assistants waiting in the hallway.

As they'd anticipated, the news of Draco's 'injury' had travelled quickly. The first came half an hour after Draco had been rushed into the hospital and was an announcement through the WWN – a "breaking news story of utter importance" that an "anonymous listener" (read: Harry) had sent them an emergency owl informing them that "reformed Death Eater, Draco Malfoy" was "at death's door at St. Mungo's, having heroically saved former war heroine, Hermione Granger, Order of Merlin, First Class, and Mister Malfoy's Ministry-appointed probation officer, from a venomous snake bite."

"More details to follow as we learn more, loyal listeners," long-time radio broadcaster, Lee Jordan announced.

Within ten minutes of that announcement, journalists were flooding the hospital lobby from _The Evening Prophet, Witch Weekly, The Ministry Press_ _,_ and Lavender Brown even appeared for _The Quibbler_ _._ Representatives from several foreign language newspapers also Floo'd in for the scoop of the year: a former follower of Voldemort saving the life of the Muggle-born member of the 'Golden Trio'.

"Congratulations, you're famous - _again_ ," Hermione joked to Draco, as he lazed about in the bed he'd been assigned.

He chuckled, and once more, the sound shot straight between Hermione's thighs, causing her to clench them tightly together.

"Only this time, it's all in the name of goodness and bravery and other such crike," he stated, amused at the prospect. "This is going to do wonders for my reputation, you realise." He reached for her hand, and stroked over the sensitive skin between her thumb and forefinger, making her heart take a powerful leap in her chest. "Think it'll help my case before the board in two weeks?"

She flushed from head to toe at the lusty look in his eye. "I think it can't hurt."

Harry sauntered up to the opposite side of the bed and Hermione couldn't help but notice those well-trained peepers of his stray to where the action was happening between her and Draco. She pulled her hand away, knowing how unprofessional such intimacy must appear.

"It's going well," her best friend reported. "There's a lobby full of journalists out there itching for news. We'll let them stew for another hour, and then we'll send out Healer Girdlestone with the update that the cause looks to be hopeless. That'll give enough time for the papers to put something in print, in case our suspect doesn't listen to the WWN."

"Your parents have been quietly taken into Interrogation at the Ministry while they were there for their probation meetings and given the news as well, Malfoy," Harry went on to explain. "They fell completely apart, demanding to be let out to be with you at the hospital. We convinced them that the only way that could happen was if they were cleared of the possibility of the crime. They volunteered to let a Legilimens take a look in their heads. It was just as you said: they have no knowledge of the crime. They're being escorted here by one of my teams. We'll debrief them of the real situation once they're in this room. I just thought you'd want to know."

Hermione nodded. "It's all going according to plan, then. Good."

Harry's intense gaze met hers. "I'm just relieved to know it's fake, 'Mione. If you'd really been bitten-"

She whole-heartedly agreed. "I know how close I came, Harry. I won't make the same mistake twice. Next time, I'll Floo-call in advance, and won't go charging in until I have the facts ascertained."

A smile twitched to life on her best friend's cheek. "Stumbling into danger is more my and Ron's deal, anyway." His attention shifted to Draco. "You're usually the rational one who gets people out of their bad predicaments."

"Subtlety was never your forte, Potter," Draco stated. "I know how close she came, too. I'm not going to let it happen again."

There was a moment of silent communication between the two men, which Hermione could not interpret. They, however, seemed to be in perfect accord over the subject matter, even without the use of words.

It was Harry who backed down first. He nodded. "See that you don't, Malfoy...but I'll be watching, just in case."

Draco's expression was glacial. "Of course you will."

Harry walked away to go speak to Healer Girdlestone about the next phase of the operation, leaving Hermione utterly bewildered in his wake. "Did...did you just have 'the talk' with my best friend?" she demanded of Draco. She glanced back at Harry. "Did you just... _win?"_

He shrugged. "Let's just say I think Potter and I finally have an understanding." He reached out again and grabbed her hand before she could pull away to go take a seat in one of the nearby chairs. "We still need to finish our earlier talk."

With a sigh, Hermione acquiesced. "Tomorrow, when all of this is over."

"Whatever you want."

He flashed a cheeky smile, victory dancing in his eyes.

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out nice and slow, resisting the urge to strangle her charge. Honestly, the man was maddening, and in more ways than one.

She parked her bum in one of the not-so-comfortable visitor's chairs at the side of the bed and cast a Cooling Charm over them both, as the heat in the room was becoming unbearable once more.

"So, tell me more about the African spiny tree viper," she requested, wanting to pass the time learning more about the animal that was responsible for her near-death encounter.

**X~~~~~X**

**** **_“Use your enemy's hand to catch a snake.”_ **

**_\- Persian Proverb_ **

****

Two hours to the minute after Draco had been brought in to St. Mungo's, Healer Girdlestone went out to face the press in the lobby. He laid out for them the false details of the attack, and he sold them that bill of goods without a single 'tell' to give him away as a bald-faced liar.

The man was definitely a professional.

"At this time, we're doing all we can to keep Mister Malfoy comfortable," the Vanguard Healer stated to the reporters. He possessed the solemn expression of all doctors when giving bad news, and even provided the cliché dramatic pause before delivering the verdict on Draco's condition. "It's the most we can do at this point."

There was a bit of murmuring at this proclamation.

"My goodness, Healer Girdlestone, but it sounds as if you're saying that there's no cure," Rita Skeeter spoke up from the front row of reporters, sounding slightly excited by the prospect. Her specialized Quick Quotes Quill hovered over her left shoulder and was nearly burning a hole in her notepad as it raced to take down the story.

The healer gave a sobering frown and adjusted his spectacles. "I'm afraid, Ms. Skeeter, that we have no knowledge of the species of snake that bit Mister Malfoy, as it escaped soon after the attack. Without that information at our disposal..." He cleverly left that sentence hanging, allowing the imaginations of the readers and listeners to take up the thought and fill in the blanks. "We've tried various Muggle as well as magical antivenin and antidote treatments, but nothing appears to be reversing Mister Malfoy's rapidly deteriorating health. I'm afraid it's only a matter of time."

Skeeter looked properly shocked, gasping and covering her mouth as if she were stunned and shaken by the pronouncement, but from her vantage point, Disillusioned against the far wall as she was, Hermione could see the eager glimmer in the old bug's eye.

"Why, that's just terrible!" Rita stated. She leaned in closer to the healer. "Any chance I could have an exclusive last interview with the patient? Just in case he names anyone else being present during the attack...and of course, so his final words will be properly recorded."

The healer firmly shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we're still trying a few treatments on Mister Malfoy in the faint hopes that his condition might change. A foreign presence in the room might disturb the patient's chances. We can't risk it."

Ooh, he was really, very good at this, Hermione thought. She had to wonder if he was an actor or barrister in his spare time. He'd even modulated his voice to the proper tone to carry to the journalists in the way back of the crowd.

Girdlestone patted Skeeter on one padded shoulder. "Should his condition improve, however, I'll be sure to let you all know. Such a miraculous recovery would certainly be news-worthy." He turned back to the group. "No more questions at this time. I must return to my patient's caretaking."

With that, he moved away from the throng and headed back into the ward, towards Draco's assigned room. Aurors had been temporarily stationed at the entrance to the "Dangerous" Dai Llewellyn Ward for Creature-Induced Injuries to prevent any unauthorized entry, so the journalists were thwarted in their attempts to gain access to the first-floor ward to continue harassing the Healer.

Hermione felt that they'd done everything they could at that point. The story was a believable one, and the delivery of it had been solid. If the culprit didn't take the bait tonight, when all the hospital was quiet and the Aurors sent home, they'd have a slim chance of catching him or her, and would be back to square one tomorrow.

Still, the incident wasn't a total wash. Draco would come out of it smelling like roses. Their prepared "miracle cure" story for tomorrow morning's paper was all ready to go whether or not their suspect showed tonight. Her charge would be hailed as a hero who was granted a miracle from Heaven for his selfless act. He'd be remembered for having saved Hermione's life. Surely, that was enough to forgive his former sins to most of wizarding society.

She'd planned for that, of course, when she'd initially come up with the idea.

If anyone had learned their lesson and deserved a second chance, it was Draco. At least, that was her opinion on the matter. Hopefully, the Parole Board would share that sentiment in two weeks.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...** _


	6. Chapter 6

* * *

**X~~~~~X**

**_"Look before you leap, for snakes among sweet flowers do creep."_ **

**_\- German Proverb_ **

**X~~~~~X**

****

Afternoon turned to evening, and then to night so quickly that Hermione hadn't even realised what time it was until the hospital announced over the loudspeaker that visiting hours were officially over.

As before, Draco lay in the hospital cot he'd been assigned, feigning serious injury.

Narcissa and Lucius, who'd been let in on the ruse by Harry earlier, had been escorted to the room opposite their son's, and required to stay put and remain quiet. An Auror had been left with them, per the terms of their probation.

Hermione and Harry laid low in the quarters next door to Draco's, scrunched down near the door, a Weasley newly improved 'Exceptional, Dependable, Extendable Ear' hidden against the baseboard of Draco's room so they could listen in on anyone daring to enter.

Aurors hid in the room on the other side of Draco's, taking shifts watching and waiting for Harry’s signal to move in.

The wait was interminable. The hospital quickly cleared of all non-essential personnel, and a few hours after that, the swing-shift clocked out while the graveyard shift clocked in. Several times, Hermione had had to shake out her hands and legs as that awful pins-and-needles sensation overtook her limbs. She kept her mind busy by going over everything she remembered from Pansy, Theo, and Greg's files regarding their magical capabilities and considering what their defensive strategies might be if cornered.

Between twelve and one o’clock, there came a noise of someone pushing open the revolving door at the far end of the ward. Strangely, the sneak-thief was taking absolutely no precautions to hide the clomping of their footsteps. They tread closer and entered Draco’s room – the only room with a door open.

A soft _“Lumos”_ was cast by the perpetrator, and there was shuffling as they moved away from the door and closer to the bed.

There was a gasp from the culprit, and then Draco’s voice carried to the Extendable Ear, disappointment and sadness tingeing his tone.

“Greg. Why?”

Oh Godric, the perpetrator was Gregory Goyle!

There was a poignant pause, and then Greg sounded like he was choking. “Can’t…was told…administer this to Draco, she ordered.” He sounded pained, his words torn from him as if it took an effort to speak.

“Bloody hell, he’s under the Imperius Curse,” Draco informed those listening in. “Shit!” he cried out, and there was scuffling, as if there was a fight in progress. “A little help, please!”

Harry, Hermione, and the Aurors burst into action, crowding through the door to find Draco wrestling with the much larger, stronger Goyle. It looked as though he was trying to keep the wand in the man's hand from turning on its owner.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” Harry called, and the wand that Greg had somehow managed to acquire for his uses flew out of his hand and into Harry’s palm with a loud “thwack!”

When the wand was gone, Goyle’s hands reached for his own throat. His eyes were bulging and wide as he dug into the soft flesh, clearly unable to stop himself. Draco grabbed his wrists and tried to pull them away. It took an Auror casting _“Stupefy”_ on Greg to end the drama. The big guy collapsed into an unconscious heap at Draco's feet.

“Go to the front station and tell them to get a Healer in here, quick!” Harry instructed one of his Aurors. The man took off out the door and beat feet down the hall.

Hermione and Harry bent with Draco over Gregory Goyle’s inert form. Draco was carefully placing his friend’s meaty, swollen hands by his sides.

“It was the Imperius Curse,” he told them both. “I recognised the glassy look in his eyes, and he seemed to be fighting with himself. You saw.” He glanced at Harry. “Whoever set Hermione up to die wasn’t going to risk coming here and outing themselves. They mind-controlled Greg to do their dirty work for them. I think they meant for him to kill himself whether he succeeded in giving me the antidote or not.”

“I’m betting this mysterious ‘she’ that he referred to was also the one who sent him into Malfoy Manor – and probably _Imperius'd_ then, too,” Hermione postulated. She pulled up Greg's trousers at the hem, to show off that he was wearing two different coloured socks, just as Draco had correctly joked. It made a good point, though. “I agree he hasn't the intelligence enough to pull off this kind of elaborate scheme, and I think he's still too loyal to you, Draco. You did save his life in the Room of Hidden Things from Vincent's Fiendfyre. He's mentioned that more than once in our sessions.”

The Healer rushed in at that moment, and they moved off so she could do her job.

“Once he’s cleared, I want him taken to a Ministry interrogations room with an expert Curse-breaker called in,” Harry instructed one of his Aurors. “You make sure he doesn’t wake up until he’s strapped down in a pair of seat chains with a bit in his mouth. I don’t want him swallowing his own tongue or trying to rip his heart out of his chest.”

The female Auror nodded and went to stand by her charge as the Healer worked on him.

“Let’s hope the Curse-breaker can reverse the damage and we can get some answers from him,” Harry said. “Otherwise, we may never know who’s responsible.”

Draco, Hermione noted, was oddly silent as he stared down at one of his oldest friends, and for a minute, she saw a glimpse of the old Draco –the Death Eater he’d once been– stamped across his sharp features. There was a shadow across his face she hadn’t seen in him in years, and it worried her.

Would all of the good they’d generated from their ruse be for naught once he caught up to the offending party? Godric, she hoped he wouldn’t go off the reservation and delve into the dark arts again, for it would ruin him.

It would ruin _them._

**X~~~~~X**

**_"By Gryffindor, the bravest were_ **

**_Prized far beyond the rest;_ **

**_..._ **

**_And power-hungry Slytherin_ **

**_Loved those of great ambition."_ **

**_\- "Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire" by J.K. Rowling_ **

**X~~~~~X**

****

Harry set a coffee cup down before Hermione, and joined her at the small table where she sat in safety behind the glass interrogations wall, watching the proceedings on the other side.

Bill Weasley, the department’s on-call, expert Curse-breaker, stood silently in the background with his wand at the ready and keeping a wary eye on Gregory Goyle as the interrogator brought in on the case, Crispus Ogden, the renowned Tiberius Ogden’s eldest son, asked Goyle a series of questions.

Harry leaned over to her and whispered in her ear, “So, you and Malfoy?”

No one else was sharing their space just then, as Draco was down the hall using the loo with his Auror escort in tow, but still, Hermione didn’t feel comfortable speaking of such things in public – especially in a Ministry office, with an Interrogator’s Quill taking everything down. Sure, the glass between them and Greg was sound-proof, but she wasn’t taking any chances.

She hushed her friend, giving him a look to let him know they’d talk about it later.

Harry conceded with a sigh, and sipped from his steaming, black cuppa. “What about him?” he finally asked, indicating Goyle with a wave of his free hand. “Anything?”

Hermione shook her head. “It’s a hard curse to break through. Bill’s been throwing everything he has at it. Whoever _Imperio’d_ Greg was a master at the art of dark spell craft, and very clever in how they went about making sure he’d not reveal their identity. He’s had to be asked the same exact series of questions in a dozen different ways just to get around the compulsion not to talk, and then the answers are monotone responses of ‘yes’ and ‘no’. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

She took a deep breath and let it out nice and slow, considering the problem from every angle.

“Maybe we just need to present him with a list of names and have him confirm or deny each one,” she suggested.

Harry glanced at her askance. “You know we can’t use names unless he brings them up. The law would throw out the case, calling it inducement.”

Staring down into her blond coffee, she considered that. “What if their names were mentioned in passing by Draco to Greg directly?” she asked aloud. “Like, 'have you seen so-and-so lately and how is she?' As if it were one friend inquiring upon another.”

Her best friend chuckled. “He’s rubbing off on you.”

“Who?"

Harry gave her a knowing smirk.

"Oh.”

She took a sip of her coffee and looked away.

Yes, there was no need to confirm that working with Draco for so many years had definitely had an effect on how she viewed the world. But then, she’d always had a bit of Slytherin in her. Even the Hogwarts Sorting Hat had pointed that out to her, when it had been deliberating which House to assign her.

“I think we could afford to take a break, make a fresh batch of coffee, and let old friends catch up, don’t you?” Harry asked in between sips of his drink.

Hermione laughed. “He’s rubbed off on you, too.”

It had been Harry who had been assigned to accompany Draco from the Ministry lobby when he'd Floo in to every meeting with his probation officers on the second level and back again. He'd been assigned personal responsibility for Draco while on Ministry soil by Kingsley – a task Harry took seriously, as it had been his testimony that had kept the Malfoys out of Azkaban, hence his reputation was on the line. What the two men said to each other or discussed during those brief transit moments between levels, Hermione had no idea, but she had noticed Harry and his former childhood rival seemed more at ease with each other over the years, even a bit friendly on occasion.

Harry chuckled. “I’ve always been like this. My stellar personality has just dazzled you too much to notice.”

Hermione laughed, nearly snorting coffee out of her nose. “Yes, Draco has most definitely rubbed off on you, Harry James Potter. Most definitely.”

**X~~~~~X**

**_"A man does not run among thorns for no reason;_ **

**_either he is chasing a snake or a snake is chasing him."_ **

**_\- African Proverb_ **

**X~~~~~X**

****

It turned out that Draco was good at the sly interrogations thing – to the point where he’d been able to certify the identity of their suspects without leaving Greg a quivering mass of sweat and goo on the floor. The big man looked quite relieved, in fact, that the truth had been wrung from him without ending in his demise.

Harry stared up at Draco as he exited the Interrogations Room. “You know, you might have just found your calling – that is, if you ever manage to get out from under the Parole Board’s thumb,” he stated.

Draco smirked, but the expression was fleeting as the seriousness of the issue came back home to roost between the three of them. “I would say I’m surprised that either of those bitches would stoop so low, but then I remember who I’m talking about,” he stated, his gaze iron-hard and his jaw set for retaliation.

Hermione snorted. “Neither woman was ever stable. Someone should have locked them both up years ago.”

Harry pointed at both her and Draco. “You two go back home. I’ve got it from here.”

As her best friend moved off, beginning to make plans to arrest their suspects, Hermione called after him. “Remember Pettigrew's trick!" At Harry's confused glance over his shoulder, she explained, "Make sure your magical cuffs can accommodate an unregistered Animagus, just in case she attempts to change and flee!”

Harry turned around, walking swiftly backwards with a grace she’d never possess. “Got it. Now, go home, both of you. I’ll send word as soon as both of them are remanded into custody.”

When he was gone, and the hallway cleared, Hermione looked up at Draco. “I suppose I’m to escort you home.”

Despite their exhaustion over the ups and downs of the day’s and night’s events, there was heat in Draco’s gaze when he looked down at her. “That would be the responsible thing to do.”

They walked side-by-side to the elevators, taking them up to the lobby in silence, the air between them thick with possibilities.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...** _


	7. Chapter 7

* * *

**X~~~~~X**

**_“But time strips our illusions of their hue,_ **

**_And one by one in turn, some grand mistake_ **

**_Casts off its bright skin yearly like the snake.”_ **

**_\- Lord Byron_ **

****

The moment Hermione stepped out of the Floo at Draco’s house she was swept up into his arms. He carried her out of the refurbished Drawing Room with hardly any effort and a quick stride. He knew she hated that one location in his home, despite the fact it had been completely torn out and redone by some rather talented contractors post-war.

“Where are you-?” she began to ask, but he shushed her and headed out the door further into the house.

They travelled down the hallway to the library, where he set her on her feet and ‘borrowed’ her wand again to ward the room for privacy.

“Now, about that talk,” he began as the last charm was set. “I think after everything that’s happened we can skip it and get right to the important part.”

Tossing her wand onto the nearby sofa, he dragged her into his arms and lowered his head to claim her lips in a scorching first kiss that left her breathless and a little dazed. “We…can’t…” she whispered around a gasp as he slid his hands all up and down her spine, moulding her curves to his. Against her belly, she could feel how hard he already was for her.

“Just some kissing,” he promised, his mouth trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down her throat and finding that one spot that was guaranteed to make her melt every time, “-and some touching,” he amended. He silenced her attempts to protest with another one of those punishing nips to her earlobe, just as he had the afternoon before. “No one will know. No one will see. It’s just you and me here, in the dark. I've _Silence'd_ the room, and locked the door. We'll be safe here.”

Her mind conjured up a list of arguments as to why this was not a smart thing to do, but in the end, Draco’s sly, caressing fingers and his enticing lips decided things for her. She’d always been weak when it came to indulging in trouble anyway, as her school years could well attest, and Draco was trouble with a capital 'T'. He set her daring side on fire.

It was an easy thing for Draco to coerce her over to the plush chaise lounge situated before the unlit hearth and lay her back onto it. His warm body came over hers, blanketing and sheltering her, and he brushed the short strands of her hair back, tucking some behind her ear. "I love this haircut," he murmured with frank appreciation as he lowered his mouth to nuzzle and nip at her throat. "It gives me much better access for this." He suckled the skin right over her pulse, causing her eyes to roll back into her head.

Hermione vowed then and there that she was never growing her hair long again. She would never doubt Ginny's fashion advice, either.

His fingers skimmed over her breast, circling a nipple through her clothing, causing it to ache with need. She arched into his touch in a silent plea for more, even as a final stubborn protest left her lips – a last out for them both.

“Draco, we _really_ shouldn't do this."

It was a ridiculous objection, and they both knew it, because in the end she would give in to his seduction. It was inevitable, as the chemistry between them was explosive and the emotional connection between them undeniable. They both knew _that_ as well.

Sensing her defences weakening, Draco sensuously licked over the spot on her neck he'd just bruised with his lips and pinched her taut nipple, pressing his advantage. It was enough to drag a moan from her throat and to cause her thighs to quiver with nervous anticipation. Kicking her sandals off and pulling him closer, she strained against him, rubbing like a cat in heat against the hard length of his body, trying to hide her nervous trembling. Her nails were sunk into his soft hair, urging him on at the same time as punishing him for making her enjoy these forbidden feelings.

Draco took her permission and ran with it.

Her blouse was unbuttoned, and the soft, cotton cups of her bra pulled down. He engulfed her small nipple in his mouth and sucked it until it was a hard, firm point between his lips, then he did the same with the other. He was reverent, and at the time same intensely sexual in his exploration of her body. His mouth and hands were everywhere, brushing butterfly-like caresses over her abdomen, her waist, up an arm and down the other, over the column of her throat, and down the straight line of her sternum to her bellybutton.

When it was clear he wanted to discover more of her, her cotton shorts were unbuttoned with haste, and he tugged them and her knickers down her legs at the same time, trailing a path of kisses as he went.

"You...you said just kissing," she pointed out as he tossed her clothing aside and reversed course, heading back towards the apex of her thighs.

Draco chuckled, and the current of his chuffing breath blew across her trimmed pubic hair, causing her to shiver again. "This is kissing, Granger. The best kind." He pressed his mouth to her slick lower lips and Hermione's breath exploded from her lungs, along with a small wail of delight.

As she lay under his provocative spell, Draco proved to her that his oral skills were as masterful in bed as out of it. His tongue snaked out, sampling, teasing, and tracing her with small licks. When he latched onto her clit to suckle, it wasn't with that overly-enthusiastic, hard pressure that some men thought was the way to get a woman's motor turned-over. It was a gentle, warm lapping, rhythmic and tender, appreciative and sensual.

His hands soothed her nerves, rubbing gentle circles over her hips and thighs, calming her even as his mouth drove her pleasure higher and hotter. His tongue probed every inch of her secrets, learning where to stroke and where to flick. When it delved into her depths, her spine arched off the settee and with a startled cry, she abruptly fell over the edge of bliss. Her orgasm shattered her with its sweet intensity.

As she lay, panting and boneless in the aftermath, she felt Draco move off. It was too dark to see, but she heard the rustling of his clothing. When he returned to her side, his bare skin caressed against hers.

"But-" the small dissent escaped her, even as Draco raised her into a sitting position and removed her shirt from her shoulders and her bra from around her. "You said _some_ touching."

He lay her back down and carefully spread her thighs apart, settling between them. His belly rested against hers, his pelvis pressed in tight, as his hard length stroked between her wet lower lips, slicking up in the warm bath of her juices.

When he was ready, he shifted and with an expert roll of his hips and a definitive thrust, he was buried inside her to the hilt. Hermione cried out at the exquisite sensation of him parting her.

Dropping to his elbows, he brought their bodies together. His fingers traced the pattern of her features and smoothed her hair back from her face. "This is some touching," he told her around soft, small kisses as he held perfectly still below so she might adjust to the feel of them so intimately connected. "I'm touching every part of you, all at once. It's a rather–" He playfully licked her lips."–sensible and expedient way to go about knowing each other, actually. You should appreciate that kind of pragmatism, Granger."

She giggled. "You’re too clever and sly for your own good, Draco, like a snake waiting in tall grass."

Again, that wicked chuckle rumbled through his chest, vibrating through her core. "I am Slytherin, love," he reminded her, and sneakily thrust his tongue into her mouth to end the chit-chat. At the same time, he coerced hers into flirting back with him, easing the last of her niggling doubts about what they were doing. She indulged, tasting her essence in his mouth as it combined with his unique flavour, and was dragged under by his erotic teasing.

His hips began moving then with slow, gentle thrusts, completely attentive to building up her desire once more. He was a generous lover, more than she'd ever assumed him capable of being, and all at once, she realised she was in serious jeopardy of more than just indulging in the delightful sin of sex with this man...

"Don't think," he encouraged with harder strokes, attempting to distract her mind. "Forget about everything else until later. Just be with me, right here."

He did his best to make sure her focus stayed on him and what they were doing, his fingers and mouth touching her in diverting, pleasurable ways. His teeth drew her nipple back into his mouth, as his rhythm incrementally increased. Her hips met his with equal desperation, and her hands touched every plane of his body that she could reach, learning where each angle and scar was located, feeling his sleek muscles bunch and release over and over as he drove them on towards a beautiful, mad ending. When he stroked against a particularly erotic spot within her, Hermione threw her head back against the settee, and he let her breast go and latched onto her pulse instead, marking it with his teeth and the hard suck of his lips.

The velvet, summer darkness around them grew humid and close as they panted and strained against each other. Sweat mingled and moans blended with small, sharp cries as their bodies fused and parted, fused and parted.

"Come," he bade, his panting mouth pressed to her ear. "Come for me."

Lifting her legs, she wrapped them around his waist, opening her body up for deeper, harder penetration. He gave it to her, and ribbons of intense pleasure lashed through her as he brought her to the pinnacle of pleasure once again.

The new angle pushed him over the edge before her. With a low groan, Draco’s whole body shuddered and he buried his face in her hair, releasing his seed in a series of hot, powerful spurts that filled her. Her inner muscles convulsed around him as he pulsed into her again and again, and she came right as he stroked deeply into her a final time.

They lay together in a sweaty, trembling heap after, their lungs sawing for breath, and Hermione realised that her tormented thoughts of the future were thankfully quieted for the moment. She rode the wave of contentment and peace that sexual gratification brought her.

Draco stirred first, lifting his head to kiss along her bottom jaw. He ghosted over her lips. "See? Just some kissing and touching, as promised."

With a weak laugh, she held him to her. Her emotions were on a trippy roller coaster ride through her head, so she left the speaking for another time. Instead, she snuggled into her lover, and let him hold her as she drifted off into pleasant dreams.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...** _


	8. Chapter 8

* * *

**X~~~~~X**

**_“A relationship is like being in a forest,_ **

**_where snakes lurk awaiting the chance to entice.”_ ** **_  
―_ ** [ **_Anthony Liccione_ ** ](http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1396583.Anthony_Liccione)

Later that afternoon, after redressing and Flooing home to her cottage to shower and change, she met up with Harry and Draco back at the Ministry lower levels, where the holding cells were located.

She traded a shy, happy smile with Draco as she approached where he was standing with Harry outside Interrogations Room One. Harry, of course, didn’t miss the exchange and merely raised an eyebrow at her. Hermione completely ignored him.

“They’re both here?” she asked her best friend, hitting the business to avoid the personal.

Harry nodded. "Skeeter's in One, Greengrass in Two. The tactical questioning phase is over. Astoria tripped up, as expected, and ended up confessing to knowing about and participating in the scheme. Skeeter’s a tougher nut to crack. She refuses to talk. Her counsel has been in there with her all morning, making sure she doesn’t answer anything.”

“You don’t have to wait for her to confess," Draco stated. "Under Article Four, Subsection d, Paragraph four of the M.L.E. Criminal Reform Act of 1998: in the course of a criminal investigation if there is reasonable grounds documented by the arresting Auror or Hit Wizard to assume the casting of Unforgivable Curses by the suspect, the use of Veritaserum and Legilimency can be authorized by the Head Auror leading the investigation without violating the suspect’s rights.”

When Harry and Hermione both stared at him, a little surprised he’d know such a thing, Draco pointed to himself. “Convicted Death Eater, remember? I had to protect myself and my parents from accidentally violating our probation by learning the new laws.”

Hermione gained a new-found respect for her charge. She’d known Draco was brilliant; the only reason he hadn’t gone further during his schooling days was because he’d been a lackadaisical student, expecting to ride the glory of his family’s name and fortune to a lifetime of greatness. Still, to take such extreme measures as memorizing an entire legal code to protect himself and his parents showed remarkable initiative.

“Malfoy, the second you’re a free man, come to my office,” Harry offered. “I could seriously use someone with your talents.”

Draco seemed vaguely amused by the prospect. “A felon working for M.L.E.? That’s rich.”

Harry shrugged. “Former felon, by then. Besides, it’s not like you’d be the first one to go through the system on one end and come out the other.”

Clearly discomfited by the sincere offer, Draco fidgeted and turned his attention to the interrogation rooms, distracting from the current topic with a return to the previous one. “In any case, Skeeter's representative is stalling for time. Probably has some lackey looking up the new laws to try to find a loophole. If you don’t move soon, she may walk out of here and let Greengrass take the fall.”

With a curt nod, Harry was down the hall and through another door, most likely looking for a good Legilimens, since he was still awful at the art.

They were alone in the hallway, then, but still Draco was oh-so-careful not to appear too familiar as he leaned against the wall next to Hermione. “How are you?” he asked in a nonchalant manner, inspecting his nails.

Hermione glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “A little tired, but well. You?”

He looked at her sideways and tossed her a wicked smirked. “Well, since you asked... I had the best night of my life last night with a gorgeous, _very_ sexy woman, and now I can't get her out of my head.”

No man had ever applied the terms 'gorgeous' and 'sexy' to her, much less in the same sentence. Ron had always simply referred to her as his 'pretty girl', as if she were some young teenager still. Or worse, 'baby', as if she were a child he needed to guide and protect. He'd never viewed her as a fully-grown woman, not really - that was, until the question of children came up in the relationship, and then he'd expected her to behave and look like his own mother (read: a self-sacrificing, unattractive dumpling with no personal aspirations and no life outside the demands of her husband and family). Draco saw her for who she was, though, and he made her believe that she _was_ beautiful and appealing.

She let a small smile slip onto her lips. “The best night? Are you absolutely sure about that?”

“Mmm, I’ve no doubts. The question is: does she?”

Her humour slipped away. “I… I’m sure she doesn’t. She’s probably just worried about how you'll view her, and what will change now.”

“If anything's been made different, Granger, it's that I want... _her_... even more," he admitted. "The taste I had last night wasn't enough to satisfy my greedy nature. I want more, and soon. As for being worried, that’s the thing about her: she’s always worried about something or someone.” He sighed, and ran a hand through his baby-soft hair. “I love her for it, but sometimes her constant fretting drives me absolutely spare.”

Hermione's head jerked up, and she met his eyes, feeling the blood drain from her face. “You love m-… _her?_ Surely one night of sex, even if it was _really_ great sex, wasn’t enough to alter your feelings that much was it?”

His joking facade disappeared in a flash, and his brow furrowed, as if he were disturbed by her words. “You’re right,” he finally said. His expression was flat and serpentine, and Hermione felt a moment of heart-sinking failure, realising she’d insulted his feelings and mocked the beautiful thing they’d done the night before.

“I'm sorry. That was awful of me,” she admitted. "I shouldn't have-"

Two fingers pressed under her chin, raising it so she was forced to meet his eye. “You didn’t let me finish. You’re right; it _was_ really great sex,” he told her, jogging his eyebrows with suggestive playfulness, his mood flipping like a switch. Amusement now twinkled in his raincloud-coloured eyes and across his twitching, sensual lips. “Fantastic sex, in fact. The sort of sex that turns a man inside out, and makes him want to beg for more…which, contrary to popular belief, I’m not above doing, for the right woman.”

Relief and joy flooded through her, bringing happy tears to her eyes. “And _she’s_ the right woman?” she dared to ask.

"I'm almost positive she is."

“Despite the fact she drives you mad with her worrying?” she pressed.

“Yes, there is that." He clucked his tongue and moved off to lean back against the wall again, seeming to reconsider his decision. "She also has this irritating need to always be right, and she's the first to give you that 'I told you so' look. God, that gets on my pecs."

Hermione's good mood abruptly vanished.

_What was he saying?_

“And her eidetic memory grates on my nerves, too, especially when she’s able to regurgitate verbatim whole pages of random facts she's read in some obscure text. She's a walking encyclopaedia of arbitrary knowledge. A bit of a swot, really."

She frowned and her fists clenched at her sides.

_What was that?_

"Then there’s the fact she won’t even consider Divination as a legitimate branch of magic-”

“It isn’t,” she hotly refuted, crossing her arms under her breasts. “Divination is ninety percent self-fulfilling prophecy, and ten percent statistical coincidence.”

He glanced at her askance and grinned. “Did I mentioned that she's completely too stubborn for her own good, as well as insistent upon people seeing things her way,” he continued. “And she's not above using violence to achieve her aims, either. Ironic, really, since she accused me of being quite the little bully when we were growing up. Talk about role reversal."

"I do not do that!" she hissed, trying to keep her voice low so no one would overhear their conversation. She reached out and pinched his arm. "You take that back, Draco Malfoy!"

Draco was laughing now. "And she's got these chirpy, inane friendships, especially with this one family of red-headed weasels. I can’t understand the attachment there at all. I mean, they’re all so _poor!_ ”

She lightly kicked him in the shin, huffing with indignation. "You're just trying to get a rise out of me. Well, it won't work." She turned her back on him. "I'm not listening anymore."

"Did I mention that her parents stick their hands in other people’s mouths for a living? A completely unsanitary and stomach-turning occupation, if you ask me."

She whirled back around and put her hands on her hips, giving him what Ron and Harry referred to as 'The H.G. patented Death Glare'.

“Is there anything about m-… _your witch_ that doesn’t irritate you, aside from the sex?”

He seemed to consider it. “Well, she did recently get her unnaturally feral hair cut into an attractive style,” he admitted. “It's nice that I can finally see her face.” He closed the distance between them in a single step and reached up traced the contours of her features as he described her. “I've always known she has a lovely, strong jaw, but now I can see the lightest sprinkle of adorable freckles across her nose, and the slivers of gold among her dark, almond-shaped eyes. And don't get me started on her mouth...” His gaze was drawn down to where his thumb caressed her bottom lip. "So tempting. I want to kiss it and bite it and suck on it until it's swollen and everyone knows she's been thoroughly kissed by me."

Caught up in the hypnotic sound of his voice and in his sexually-charged words, Hermione forgot they were in the middle of a Ministry hallway and that they were behaving most unprofessionally. She leaned up on tiptoe to try to bring their mouths together.

With a sly grin, Draco abruptly let her go and stepped back. "Sorry, love. I know I’m irresistible and all, but I can't betray _her_ like that.” He bopped her on the nose with one finger. “Got to keep in her good graces, you see. Otherwise, I'll be locked out of her knickers, and wouldn’t that just be the world’s biggest travesty."

Denied, Hermione huffed and moved back to her former spot against the wall. She folded her arms across her chest again, irritated. “Rotten ferret,” she murmured, recognising that he was right and they’d just dodged a major hex with his refusal to ravish her in the middle of an open Ministry corridor. What if someone had opened one of the interrogations room doors right at that moment, or Harry had returned with Aurors in tow? She was supposed to be the professional here!

"Did I mention she tends to pout when she doesn’t get her way, too?" Draco teased, taking up his prior spot against the wall at her side. “It’s a sexy pout, though, so I’m not quite sure whether to rate it for or against her.”

“Oh, shut up,” she growled at him.

He laughed.

They waited in a comfortable silence after that, lingering as close to each other as they dared. Only inches and one review board's decision stood in the way of them coming together.

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...** _


	9. Chapter 9

* * *

**X~~~~~X**

" _With thy sharp teeth this knot intrinsicate._

**_Of life at once untie: poor venomous fool._ **

**_Be angry, and dispatch."_ **

**_-_ ** **_"Antony and Cleopatra" by William Shakespeare_ **

****

The Veritaserum and Legilimency interrogations took long hours, but by the end of the day, Harry had the full story laid out: it was a simple case of revenge, on both women's parts.

Never have forgotten Hermione’s role in her humiliation during the year of the Tri-Wizard Tournament at Hogwarts, Rita Skeeter had made it her sole mission in life to attempt to defame and ruin Hermione. However, destroying the reputation of a war heroine who had received the Order of Merlin, First Class and was Harry Potter's best childhood friend had proved to be impossible, even with Skeeter’s sensationalized style of journalism. The public adored Hermione, and Skeeter resented her more and more for it as the years rolled on.

Skeeter finally cracked when she wrote a rather scandalous piece regarding Hermione’s split from Ron just two years prior, but the public seemed completely sympathetic to Hermione in that case, and had ignored Skeeter's implications of infidelity on Hermione's part (a complete falsification, of course, as it had been Ron who'd been unfaithful in the relationship). Rita had stepped up her stalking after that, and quickly noted that Hermione had developed a rather close relationship with her probationary charges, particularly Draco Malfoy.

When Skeeter checked into Draco’s background, she’d found out that his ex-girlfriend, Astoria Greengrass, was borderline mental over the man, and had been officially reprimanded a few times by the Hit Wizard's Office for sending him harassing and threatening notes. Skeeter thought to work that angle to learn more about the former Death Eater, planning to use him somehow to ruin Hermione. She formed an alliance with Astoria to destroy Hermione, agreeing to Greengrass' request for a little revenge on Draco at the same time.

Knowing Draco's short list of friends, it was Astoria who picked Gregory Goyle (not the brightest bulb on the Christmas tree) to use as her means of getting into Malfoy Manor, for she knew Goyle had access to Draco's Floo. She tricked Greg into coming to her home for tea, and when he'd shown up, she'd cast the Imperius Curse on him. She and Rita had then sent him on a reconnaissance mission at Draco's home, looking for anything they could use that might further their ambitions.

That's how they discovered Draco's snake hobby.

They formulated a plan to use one of the more deadly serpents in his collection to kill Hermione, framing Draco for the 'accident'. He would then be arrested and punished in Azkaban for a number of years for allowing an officer of the court to come to harm inside his home while under her supervision, and Hermione would be six-feet under and worm-food – which would neatly solve both of Astoria and Rita's problems in one fell swoop.

From there, it was only a matter of several more months of using Greg (keeping him under a mind-control spell the whole time) to spy in secret at Malfoy Manor before Astoria and Rita chose their perfect candidate from among Draco's cluster to carry out the deed. They'd decided on _Atheris hispida_ , as the species was deadly, with only one known, very rare antivenin remedy available.

Unbeknownst to Rita, as soon as the choice of snakes had been made, Astoria began brewing the antivenin potion, just in case she'd need it for Greg, who she didn't want to kill. She’d begun to develop feelings for the big lug, and had decided to keep him around after everything was done and she’d had Rita wipe his memory. Her first order of business, of course, would be to compel Greg to kill Rita – to tie up loose ends. In order to stall for time for the antidote potion to finish, though, Astoria had had to lie to Skeeter about their snake of choice, telling the older witch that the species tended to hibernate until the summer months and wouldn’t wake up until June. Rita, who knew nothing about snakes, bought the fib.

Unbeknownst to Astoria, however, Skeeter had used an old, dark spell on Goyle in the meantime that she’d learned in one of the dark wizard Raczidian’s tomes. The curse compelled Greg to obey Rita three times. Her first command was for him was to kill himself if their murder plot went awry and he was caught by Ministry authorities. Her second command was that he was never to openly speak either woman's name, if he was unable to succeed in his suicide attempt and was detained. Her final command was that he would kill Astoria for Rita when she gave a pre-arranged signal at any time in the future.

The two allies had planned to turn on each other in the end like vipers. How poetic.

When the antivenin potion was ready in June, Astoria went to Rita and told her the snake they’d chosen should be out of hibernation. They waited for the perfect day, when the Malfoy house-elf, Lucius, and Narcissa would all be out of the house and Draco too busy with his cello practice to hear the Floo activate. Then, the two witches sent a mind-controlled Greg to Malfoy Manor one last time with his instructions for subduing and placing the snake in the proper place. Since his wand was in Ministry custody while he was under the terms of his probation, Rita provided Greg with a wand that she'd procured years earlier during the war (it had turned out to be Walden Macnair's, lost during the Battle of Hogwarts and fished by Skeeter in the clean-up after, when she'd appeared to 'interview the victors'. Apparently, she had a small collection of lost and missing wands that she'd acquired in a similar matter over the years).

Greg left and returned in an hour with news of his success.

Skeeter then Floo’d to the Ministry to avoid using an owl to deliver her message to Hermione (as owls were traceable), and instead attached it as a 'Rider' on a passing Interdepartmental Note. Her plans thus firmly in place, she'd remained at the Ministry that morning and early afternoon, pretending to want an interview with the head of International Cooperation, just so she'd have an alibi.

Later, when the WWN broke the news that it was Draco who had been injured by the snake, Rita had left the Ministry for St. Mungo's to find out whether Hermione had been bitten as well, and Astoria... well, she'd gone ballistic. The younger witch had waited until nightfall to send Greg into Draco’s hospital room to deliver the antivenin to him (she may have wanted to punish Draco, she'd explained to Ogden, but she'd never meant for her ex-lover to die). That mistake had cost her and Rita Skeeter everything.

After hearing their separate confessions while under Veritaserum, and confirming the stories with two separate Legilimens, Harry arrested both Rita Skeeter and Astoria Greengrass for conspiracy to commit the murder of Hermione Granger.

Further, Greengrass was charged with the use of an Unforgivable Curse (the Imperius upon Gregory Goyle), and compelling him while under said curse to break into and enter someone’s private residence. She was also charged with conspiracy to commit Rita Skeeter's murder.

Skeeter’s secondary charges involved using ancient, dark magic to control another’s mind and actions, including compelling them to commit murder (Astoria Greengrass' future death) and suicide (Gregory's death by his own hands if he was caught). She was also charged with the misuse of government services (the Interdepartmental Note service) for non-Ministry business.

It was an open and shut case. The two witches were going to serve life in Azkaban in solitary confinement, for sure.

In an ironic turn of events, it was Rita Skeeter's long-time professional nemesis that covered the woman's arrest and trial for _The Daily Prophet_. Betty Braithwaite was as ruthless and inspired as her predecessor, especially when expounding upon Skeeter's motives for conspiring to off Hermione:

_"Apparently, Ms. Skeeter had never forgiven Ms. Granger, who at the tender age of fifteen outsmarted Ms. Skeeter and discovered the witch's unregistered Animagus status. Humiliated by the clever detection from a mere underage student –a witch more than half her age– and fearing that such information would one day be made public to interested Ministry officials, Ms. Skeeter confessed while under Veritaserum to having spent years slandering Ms. Granger's good name in her various journalistic pursuits, in the hopes of discrediting her. When that avenue did not prove fruitful, she'd decided upon more drastic measures..."_

* * *

_**TO BE CONTINUED...** _


	10. Chapter 10

* * *

**X~~~~~X**

_**"** _ _**Suddenly the grass before my feet  
shakes and becomes alive.  
The Snake twists, almost leaps  
graceful even in terror,  
smoothness looping back over smoothness,  
slithers away, disappears.  
And the grass is again still."**_

**_\- "Snake" by Bill Mudie_ **

.

**Two Weeks Later…**

“Well, that went better than I’d expected.”

Draco looked rather pleased with himself, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets and practically strolling through the Ministry’s second-floor corridor like he owned the place.

Hermione had to restrain herself from acting unprofessionally and jumping up and down in excitement. Her charge had been granted his freedom, his probationary terms deemed served to completion. He’d even been commended by the Parole Board members for his work with the Auror Office in the investigation into Hermione’s murder plot. The panel had recommended immediate release of his wand, and a returning of all previously-revoked magical rights without delay as a reward.

“I’m very proud of you,” she said, trying to remain cool as they passed by politicians, bureaucrats, and law enforcement officials on their way to the main Auror Office. It wouldn’t do to look like a love-sick ninny in front of any of these people. “You’re the first person to be released early from their war trial sentence. You’re going down in the books as an example of effective corrective action in the penal system.”

“You mean I’ll be famous for something besides my amazing looks and my charming personality?” he bragged.

Hermione rolled her eyes and restrained her desire to push him into the nearest wall. Honestly, the man’s ego was astounding!

In a quick dash and grab, Draco had her new wand in his hand. He examined it from tip to base, ignoring her protests. "Now, this is a wand more like you," he exclaimed with an awed expression. "I can feel its power. Interesting wood choice. Redwood?"

Hermione shook her head. "Sequoia. Technically, they're the same family, but a different species."

"Ah, and the core?"

"Dragon heartstring wrapped around a sliver of Chimera scale."

He whistled. "I've never felt anything like it. It's powerful. Ollivander didn't make this, did he?"

"His son, Gareth, did. The man studied with master wand makers in Salem, Kyoto, Roopkund, and Thebes after his apprenticeship with his father was done. He's brought the craft of wand making to a whole new level in the profession, introducing new types of woods and wand cores from his travels. Or, so his father brags." She glanced up at him. "You seem somewhat versed in the art. Is it something you're considering doing now that you're a free man?"

Draco shook his head and gave her wand a wave, conjuring a white rose for her. He then passed both the flower and her wand back to her. "Nope."

“Well, then, have you thought any more about _my_ offer?” Harry asked from the other side.

Draco was abruptly quiet, and he lost the swagger to his stride. “I’ve thought about it,” he admitted. “Just consulting, whenever you need me, right? Not full-time work.”

Harry nodded. “That’s it, although I don’t understand why you won’t consider-”

“Because I already have a job, Potter, and its rather time-consuming.”

This was a surprise to Hermione, who had thought she’d known Draco better than just about anyone else on the planet.

“What job?” she asked him.

He seemed a bit embarrassed, pinking at the cheeks. “Conservation biology.”

“Which means, what, exactly?” Harry asked at the same time as Hermione demanded, “When did you start doing that?”

Draco cleared his throat. “I breed rare and endangered snakes, Potter. Haven’t you been paying attention?” He turned to look down at Hermione. "And I’ve been doing it off and on since I was eight years old, and got my first specimen. Remember Frank?”

She stopped them just before they rounded the door to the Auror’s main offices, a sneaky suspicion taking hold of her.

“You hissed at the African spiny tree viper. Not just once, but twice. That day, you-”

She stopped, realising what she was just about to say in public.

Her lover had his poker-face firmly in place, and kept his lips shut on the matter. That was enough proof, as far as she was concerned.

“Harry, get his things, please,” she instructed her friend, even as she kept her gaze on Draco. “Meet us at Malfoy Manor in an hour.”

With that, she grabbed Draco’s arm and hauled him after her, heading back down the hallway.

After a few feet, Draco extricated his arm from her grasp, but kept even with her pace. They made the elevators, crowding in beside others who were desperate to get home after a full day’s work, and hit the Floo lines moments later. Once they arrived at Draco’s home, he stalled their discussion until they reached the library, where he immediately headed for the drink caddy again to pour them both a glass of Firewhisky. This time, she resolved, she'd take the offer and to fly with it being a work day. She intended on taking the rest of the afternoon off.

Hermione looked around. The room was the same as every other time she’d been there, except now it held a different sort of feeling for her. Her eyes trailed to the chaise lounge, and memories of her and Draco's one night together set her pulse racing. Thank Godric the heat wave seemed to be over for now, because she felt hot enough under the collar as it was just remembering that night.

Draco crossed the room to her and silently handed her a crystal glass filled a third of the way with a warm, amber liquid. She took it from him with a nod in thanks, and sipped from it right away, warily watching him as he took up a spot near the giant desk to the left of the fireplace. He drank from his glass, eyes locked on some arbitrary spot on the wall.

Well, if he wasn’t going to say anything…

“An affinity for snakes. Sorted into Slytherin. And Dueling Club, second year, you effortlessly conjured a snake charm against Harry,” she stated with emphasis.

“ _Serpensortia_ ,” he confirmed with a shrug. “So?”

She took a seat on the sofa, and set her glass on the small side table. “That was an advanced spell for someone so young. You shouldn’t have been able to conjure a whole, live snake until fourth or fifth year at the earliest, depending upon how advanced your Transfiguration and Charms studies were at that age.”

“Maybe I’m just a child prodigy, Granger. Ever think of that?”

“Or maybe you have affinity for all things snake for a reason.” She sighed, frustrated by the fact he’d reverted to the same conversational deflections and diversions he’d used early on in their probation sessions. “Let’s cut to it, shall we? I’m guessing you’re an Animagus whose form is a snake, and I’ll wager you speak Parseltongue, too.”

His gaze dropped to his shoes, and he went as still as stone.

“I’m not asking as your probation officer, Draco. You don’t have one of those any longer. I’m asking as your friend and as someone who genuinely cares for you. Besides, why are you embarrassed? If it’s true, you have an amazing combination of talents there! We’d just need to get you registered with the Ministry as an Animagus, and then-”

Draco firmly shook his head, staring into his glass as he swirled its contents around and around. “You can’t tell anyone, Hermione. I’m a dark wizard, a convicted Death Eater who served the only other man who could naturally speak Parseltongue in this century. And no, Potter doesn’t count, since his ability was based on being a horcrux to Voldemort and wasn’t natural.” He glanced at her, his expression pleading. “I didn’t want to lie about this, but… I’ve kept it a secret since I first learned how to change during sixth year. Not even the Dark Lord knew. I used the Occlumency I'd learned from Aunt Bella to hide the truth from everyone, because… Well, shit, think about it for a second. If it got out that I can speak Parseltongue and can turn into a serpent, what do you think the repercussions will be?”

She nodded. “I get that. I really do. But if the Ministry finds out you can shift-”

“I know the law,” he impatiently replied. “Article Twelve, Subsection a, Paragraph one of the M.L.E. Criminal Reform Act of 1998: any wizard or witch with the Animagus ability must register with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement as outlined in Article One Subsections a, b, c, and d of the Animagi Registration Act of 1903, or face penalty, as outlined in Article Twelve, Subsection c of the M.L.E. Criminal Reform Act of 1998.”

Hermione was quiet in the face of Draco’s outburst. Clearly, this was a secret he’d hoped to take to his grave with him. As an officer of the court, however, it was her duty to report him for this infraction of the law…

…Just like it had been her duty to disallow him to use any magic whatsoever during the terms of his probation. Yet, he'd borrowed her wand during emergencies, and she'd never once snitched.

Clearly, she wasn’t as stellar a member of the M.L.E. as her boss believed.

_Not very professional_ _,_ she admitted with a resigned sigh.

She picked back up her glass and downed the contents in one pull, having made the rather unsettling decision to keep her mouth closed in this case. She’d just pray the Ministry never found out. “Right, so no telling a soul that you're a snake-man. Got it.” Her hand shook a little at the idea. She glanced up at her lover with some trepidation, and swallowed back her fear one more time. “But, I have to know… I need to see the truth. Can you show me?”

Draco looked pleasantly surprised by her decision and her request. He set his glass down on the desk and unbuttoned his cuffs, rolling them up to mid-forearm. The white scar from his faded Dark Mark showed just barely against the backdrop of his pale skin.

"You sure?" he asked.

_No, not really._

Hermione nodded, ignoring the voice of sanity. She was sorted Gryffindor, after all, and that meant jumping first, when required, no matter how insane the plan sounded.

Like now.

“Care to guess which species?”

She bit her bottom lip, flipping through her mental catalogue on snake facts.

“A Boa Constrictor?”

He shook his head.

Thank the Founders for that!

“Some kind of viper?”

Draco chuckled. “Wrong. Last guess.”

She smirked at him as a naughty idea crossed her mind. “A Rat snake.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “ _Har. Har._ No, you lose. I claim my prize after.”

With that, he shifted in a fluid blink of an eye, getting smaller, and whiter, and...

Hermione gasped in awe. “Oh! You’re... Oh, my!”

* * *

_**TO BE CONCLUDED...** _


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people guessed a small, relatively harmless snake for Draco's transformation, but I've given reasons in the end notes for why I chose the species I did for his Animagi form. Hope you'll agree it fits!

* * *

The albino King cobra with the pale grey eyes took a moment to orient itself, and then it slithered over to Hermione in a sinuous glide, moving fast. It ate up the distance between them in seconds.

A cold dread hollowed out Hermione's belly as the snake came within striking range. It was an instinctual mammalian response to seeing a large, venomous serpent up close, she knew, and wholly uncontrollable. As Draco slithered up along her bare leg, his skin soft and cool as it rasped against her, she couldn't hide the shudder of fear that ran through her.

He felt her riding terror levels and paused, coiled half in her lap, the other half of his long body still on the floor, giving her time to adjust to the situation.

“You’re heavy,” she noted with a nervous laugh, saying the first ridiculous thing that crossed her mind. It felt like a lead weight rested on the tops of her thighs. "I told you that you eat too many sweets, didn't I?"

Very slowly, he finished pulling the bulk of his long body up and into her lap, his eyes never leaving hers.

She swallowed down the giant lump that had crawled up her throat. “Oh my God, this is the closest to a snake I’ve ever been. I mean, I had a run-in with Nagini during the war, and that was close enough, thank you very much, but this-" She gave an anxious titter and started babbling. "I'm afraid I might just pass out. I've never passed out in my life. Does it hurt? You wouldn't take advantage of me if I were laid out unconscious, right?”

Draco's tongue peeked out to scent the air and he swayed a bit back and forth as if to tell her 'no'. At least, she _thought_ that's what he was trying to convey, but since she didn't speak snake, it was the best guess she could make.

When he was finally still, his reptilian body fully off the floor and in her lap, she took a moment to look at all of him, her mind moving a mile a minute over the details. "Your tongue is pink with black forks. I thought it would be red all over. Silly stereotype, isn't it? And your eyes are round, like a human's, not slitted. That's because cobras don't have slitted eyes, because they're diurnal. That's right. I read that in this book on snakes I once..."

She trailed off as she reached out to touch him, fascinated by the texture of his skin, but she froze at the last moment as his entire head shifted towards the movement and his hood flared open.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for Draco to calm. A second or two later, the hood relaxed. His tongue peeked out to kiss her palm in apology, and he bumped her hand with the bottom of his head in unmistakeable permission to stroke over him.

With her fingertips, she very carefully smoothed down his head. "It's you, right? In my head, I know it's you, but I'm really freaked out right now. You're really big. No, don't show me your fangs. I think this is all I can handle right now."

She stroked over him from the top of his crown to the tip of his tail, over his belly and under his chin, and he practically vibrated the whole time. Clearly, he liked her touch.

Truthfully, the more contact they had, the less scary it became for Hermione. Her inquisitive side was fully awakened in those moments of exploration, and her eyes darted everywhere, taking in small details and filing them away for later assessment.

"You're... so, _so_ beautiful," she whispered.

Feeling infinitely more comfortable with each other by this time, Draco hovered closer to her until at last his face was next to her throat. His soft tongue stroked over her pulse as he scented her. Hermione trembled and fought to control her fear as she let him have his reciprocal chance to experience her. This was, most likely, the first time he'd touched a human while in snake form, given how careful he'd been not to let his secret out, so it was all new to him, too.

What wondrous things did he see, feel, hear, taste, and smell that normal humans could not? Hermione was suddenly very curious to know.

His tongue wasn't wet, but it did tickle as it flicked out to sample her at various spots along her neck and behind her ear. He nuzzled her with his snout, moving with sensual caution over her skin. She closed her eyes as his head came around her cheek, heading towards her mouth.

He kissed her with his tongue in small licks and it felt oddly intimate... if not a little unnatural.

There was a sudden shifting of weight across her lap, and then Draco's human lips were pressing to hers as he regained his true form, reversing the spell. His hands were in her hair to hold her steady as he knelt to either side of her legs and held himself up so as not to crush her. His soft, hot, _human_ tongue parted hers, dipping in to taste and tempt, and Hermione's whole body thrummed to life under him.

They got lost in the kiss, letting it romance and remake them both.

"Thank you," he whispered as he pulled back a bit so she could catch her breath. "I've never... that was... You were so warm, and your scent..." He shook in her arms, the experience having moved him as deeply as it had moved her. "I've never trusted anyone this much, Hermione Granger. No one else knows me like you do."

Something significant shifted between them in that moment, with their foreheads pressed together, their eyes locked on each other, and their mouths only an inch apart. The revelation was a startling, unexpected turn of events, shaking up Hermione's whole world with a truth so blinding, it was impossible to deny.

_He really does love me..._

"I never thought it would be you," he admitted, peeking through long lashes at her.

... _and I love him._

"Me, either," Hermione admitted. "But it feels right."

He nodded. "It feels right."

Harry's stag Patronus came through the wall right then, interrupting them to ask for Floo permission. Hermione grabbed her wand off the sofa next to her and summoned her own Patronus to answer him.

At first, the shimmery spell coalesced into a simple ball of light. Then it shifted, and the form it took was definitely not that of the otter she'd once upon a time been able to summon.

"Well, your need for a new wand and why I was able to use your old one without any problems now makes sense," Draco stated, looking over his shoulder at the misty form of a female King cobra, curled up with hood flared, waiting for instructions.

"A fundamental life change will do that, I suppose," she said, a bit in shock over the revelation. The alternation in her spirit totem was a significant thing in and of itself, but that it matched Draco's Animagus form... Tonks had experienced the same thing when she'd fallen in love with Remus Lupin; her Patronus had changed into a werewolf. She'd said it was because they were soul-mates.

Draco gave Hermione a very satisfied, masculine smirk. "I guess you're officially re-sorted a Slytherin now."

"A part of me thinks I should be worried," she murmured, calling the Patronus to her hand. It came without reservation, slithering around her arm with affection, and she suddenly realised that snakes really didn't frighten her all that much anymore. "Funny enough, I'm not."

She released her Patronus with instructions to go to Harry, telling him to come back tomorrow morning with Draco's things. Then, she grabbed her lover's smug face and dragged it down to hers.

"Now, let me show you the proper use for that smart mouth of yours, Malfoy."

For the first time, Hermione held nothing back as she kissed him, uncaring of how unprofessional she might appear if anyone walked in on them. She was through being afraid and hiding behind her office or other such excuses to escape Draco and the second chance at love he was offering her. Just because things hadn't worked out with Ron didn't mean every relationship she had was doomed. So, she was giving them their shot, as he had asked – without family, Ministry, friend, or _snake_ influence to muck things up this time.

They made love again right there in the library all that afternoon and evening, she as soft and sweet as Eve to his wicked serpent, and she discovered that what she did with Draco was as pleasurable as original sin, but as far from sinful as could be.

**_~FIN~_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we've come to the end of our tale at long last. No sequel or epilogue planned. Thank you for joining me on this journey!
> 
> Was Draco's snake form what you expected? Originally for the fest, I'd chosen the Monocled cobra for Draco, but after thinking about it, I decided the King cobra fits him better for the following reasons:
> 
> 1\. King cobras are the world's largest species of cobra, and the longest venomous snake in the world (constrictors and pythons are not classified as venomous, and no known species of sea snake or viper or krait reaches the length of a King cobra). They average 3-4 meters in length in the wild & almost twice that in captivity, and weigh in ~12 kilograms. Despite this, they are extremely fast and agile. They are the undisputed Kings of the venomous snakes in terms of size.
> 
> 2\. King cobras are not like any other cobra in the world - they are their own genus, Ophiophagus (the sole member of that genus, in fact).
> 
> 3\. King cobras prefer to avoid confrontation, but when provoked, they are an aggressive species (their hiss even sounds like a growl). They are feared not just by humans but by other snakes, as King cobras cannibalize other snakes to keep them/their numbers in check (they are the only known snake species specifically designed for this purpose). BTW, Ophiophagus is Greek for 'snake eater'.
> 
> 4\. King cobras have recently been discovered to be picky when it comes to choosing mates (both sexes will snub those they don't find physically appealing) and they are also monogamous breeders, returning to the same area every year to find and breed with their chosen mate - something no other snake species does as far as we know. This shows a remarkable intelligence and long-term memory capability. The females are further unique in the snake kingdom in that they are dedicated parents, staying with the nest until the hatching.
> 
> 5\. King cobras are the most intelligent of the snake species. They have been scientifically proven to recognise themselves in mirrors - a feat very few mammals and birds can master, and no other snake species has demonstrated to date. That they are also picky when it comes to selecting a mate shows they recognise the importance of breeding only with the strongest and fittest of the species.
> 
> 6\. King cobras also have the second highest recessive gene count among snakes (the first being their other cobra cousins), meaning the chances of albinism is higher in the species than in other snakes.
> 
> Basically, King cobras are the Great White sharks, the Kodiak bears, and the Steller's Sea Eagles of the snake kingdom. They're vicious and deadly when needs be, devoted to their mating and clutch, willing to pick off others of their own kind and devour them for lunch, intelligent, a bit vain, and can come in the white scales/grey eyes combination. 
> 
> What do you think? Please review & let me know!
> 
> In any case, I hope you've enjoyed this tale, and thanks for letting me throw in a little snake conservation biology. Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
